


Bedroom Rule

by timeheist



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeheist/pseuds/timeheist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sweet and lazy morning in bed on the TARDIS, drinking coffee and snuggling. Perhaps 11 interrupting and having no sense at all of personal boundaries!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedroom Rule

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lonewytch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonewytch/gifts).



“Bedroom rule, Doctor, bedroom rule!”

Rory sighed, pressing his fingertips to his temples and forcing himself to maintain the pleasant grin he’d been wearing only a second before the Doctor had burst into their bedroom on the TARDIS wearing nothing but a raggedy dressing gown and a tray of French toast. The man just… didn’t know boundaries. Perhaps it was an alien thing. Yep. Had to be an alien thing. No human could be so… impolite. Impudent. But then again if he was anything but, would he really be the Doctor…?

The Doctor for his part at least had the good grace to look bashful and then avert his gaze, almost spluttering as he struggled to hold up his tray in one hand and cover his eyes with his other. Amy hastily pulled the duvet up over her bare chest with a weary but fond sigh, ducking her head underneath with one last glance at the Doctor’s back and groping around for her discarded silk vest. Rory yelped as her hand passed over his thigh and then swallowed and returned his attention to the Doctor, who was peeking through his fingers to see if the coast was clear.

“Doctor, it’s…” Rory gestured awkwardly with one hand. “It’s not as though we don’t appreciate the toast-“

“French toast.”

“French toast.” Rory agreed, with the patience Amy so often compared to that of a saint. “And coffee, but what did we say about the bedroom?”

“Don’t come in.”

“Knock first.” Amy re-emerged from the duvets with mussed hair and one shoulder of her shirt slipping off to the side. Rory fixed it with an air of embarrassment big enough for the both of them, and Amy crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned into Rory’s open embrace. “Alright Raggedy Man?”

The Doctor coughed, planted the half-spilled coffee onto the nearest counter, cleared his throat and ducked back out of the door. “Yes Ponds. Sorry Ponds.”

“And don’t disturb us until twelve!” Rory covered his ears with his hands. “Mummy and Daddy want some alone time!”

The door clicked shut and the TARDIS purred apologetically; sorry that my thief is a little kid, now you know what I put up with. Rory stared at the door for a couple of seconds, hands on the side of his head, as though he fully expected the Doctor to burst back through it, and when he finally decided that they were relatively ‘safe’ and Doctor free he threw his hands in the air and closed his eyes, turning his face to the roof.

“The Doctor is so-!”

“Shush.” Amy was stern and gentle at the same time, snuggling into Rory’s side and unfolding her arms and simply… melting. “He didn’t mean anything.”

“That’s the thing. He doesn’t think.”

“And…” Amy tapped Rory on the end of his nose, closing her eyes as well. “Maybe we should go back to not thinking too?” She paused, opening one eye and glancing across the room. “And not put the hopefully-France-French-and-not-alien-French toast to waste?” Rory snorted and wriggled free, pulling on his boxers. “Good boy.”

When he returned with breakfast and had sequestered himself back into the snuggling arms of his wife and the cosy warmth that came with it Rory dropped his chin to his chest, stuffed his mouth through of French toast, and through a mouthful of bread adopted a sulking expression. He knew damn well that this was a fight that he was going to lose and as such a fight he couldn’t waste time having. Amy helped herself to a slice of the toast and the handle of the nearest mug, taking a bite and a sip before resting her head on Rory’s shoulder and chuckling quietly.

“Are you going to sulk all morning?”

Rory took a while to deliberate the question. “No.”

“Then sit up and stop being a sourpuss.”

Reluctantly, Rory did as he was told, stuffing another larger bite of toast into his mouth almost rebelliously. Amy stifled a giggle and blew on her coffee once more, wondering if the Doctor had boiled it in a kettle or a volcano before deciding she probably didn’t care to know the answer. She sunk into the over-abundance of pillows of the bottom bunk of their bed – mercifully wider than the top bunk. The TARDIS had taken their side in the whole bed matter – with a purr, deciding that she wouldn’t change any of this for the world. A few moments later Rory joined her, a satiated expression on his face.

“S’good coffee.”

“Hmm.”

They didn’t often get mornings like this, a fact which the Doctor had punctuated quite well. Neither of them would change that, but neither of them would say that they entirely loathed the idea of a lazy, lovely morning in bed with just each other for company. It made a nice change from running for or from their lives.

Rory’s arm snaked around Amy’s back as he finished his French toast and the woman leaned into the embrace, letting her husband draw faint, gentle circles into the small of her back through the loose pyjama fabric. Amy transferred her mug to the bedside table and dimmed the lights, pressing slim fingertips to Rory’s throat and gently tickling his chin. Their happy sigh was in unison and they stayed like that for a long time, only separating for a minute or two, every now and then, for more of breakfast in bed or to relieve numb limbs.

“This is good.”

“Hmm.”

Amy closed her eyes, half asleep once more despite the coffee. Decaf, maybe. Rory didn’t care to waste much time thinking on it, nuzzling into her outstretched palm and smiling.

“How long do you think it will last?”

“Oh, about ten minutes.” Amy and Rory both chuckled, and Rory pulled back to plant a kiss on his wife’s forehead, smiling down at her for a long time. “Fifteen if we’re especially lucky.”

“Maybe the TARDIS will change the corridors again.”

“Maybe.” Amy laughed. “She does seem to ‘ship’ us. That’s the fanfiction word, right?”

“How should I know?” Amy laughed again, loudly, and it was the most beautiful thing Rory had ever heard. He rested his forehead against hers and hummed. “Though with our luck with sentient ships…”

“Mixed?”

“Mixed.” Amy kissed Rory’s cheek then made herself comfortable once more in the crook of his arms, closing her eyes. “Go back to bed sweetie.”

Rory watched his wife as she slipped back into lazy, gentle half-slumber, before closing his eyes and enjoying the peace.

“Yes ma’am…”


End file.
